


Hair Ties

by paigemccullers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, lexa likes clarke whether she wants to admit it or not, takes place after 210, there will be hair braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 20:18:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3263051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paigemccullers/pseuds/paigemccullers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke threads her hair behind her ear and continues to climb through the forest, her expression stoic but determined. Lexa wonders why she doesn’t tie it back, why put up with the hassle?</p><p>It’s then that Lexa finds herself thinking about teaching Clarke to braid her hair. She frowns at Clarke’s back and swallows thickly. To teach would be to care.</p><p>And Lexa does not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair Ties

**Author's Note:**

> *Attaches anchor to boots and hops into the Nile*  
> Yeay, another doomed pairing.

Lexa watches Clarke blow her hair out of her face for the third time in the last half an hour.

It’s not like she’s been staring at Clarke. Noticing things is her job. That’s it.

Clarke threads her hair behind her ear and continues to climb through the forest, her expression stoic but determined. Lexa wonders why she doesn’t tie it back, why put up with the hassle?

It’s then that Lexa finds herself thinking about teaching Clarke to braid her hair. She frowns at Clarke’s back and swallows thickly. To teach would be to care.

And Lexa does _not._

“We should stop, you need to rest.” Clarke speaks but keeps moving forward, never turning back to address Lexa directly. Lexa feels a small smirk tugging at her lips but ignores it immediately.

“I am fine.” She’s not lying, she really does feel fine, well, her arm could be better, but she doesn’t use her arms for walking. She’s had worse. Clarke turns to look at her now. She sees Clarke give her a once over then their eyes connect. Clarke looks as if she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t.

“We can’t be far now.” Clarke turns away. Lexa releases a breath she never knew she’d been holding.

“We’re not.” Lexa recognizes the place. It’ll only take half an hour to get back to camp. They continue in silence.

The fuss at camp separates the two. Indra pulls at Lexa with hardened, worried eyes, Clarke is swept away by her mother. Lexa decides not to feel whatever the heck it is that’s worming it’s way through her veins. A healer tends to her arm as Indra asks about their men.

“Dead.”

Indra and Lexa are opposites; it’s as simple as that. Gustus was the one that Lexa had found herself relating to more, he had brains; he used time in the place of action. Lexa wishes he hadn’t tried to poison the alliance.

Lexa expects Indra to argue, she expects words and fury and _insistence_. Instead, she nods, takes one more careful glance at Lexa’s wounds then vanishes from the tent.

-

Clarke stands with both hands planted firmly on the table before them, her head bows toward the map they’ve been staring at for the last hour. Lexa notes the tension in her posture, the stiffness in her shoulders, the whitening of her knuckles.

Their tries to breach Mount Weather have all been unsuccessful. Bellamy is, most definitely, their last hope. Lexa has little hope but doesn’t say as much in Clarke’s company.

She’s unsure as to why she’s trying to spare the girl’s feelings. She knows she shouldn’t care about something so small and tedious but when one of her men looks at Clarke the _wrong way_ she doesn’t hesitate to glare a glare that’s reserved strictly for traitors and Mountain Men. He leaves the tent without a second glance.

It dawns on her that she’s being protective, but who wouldn’t? A small, blonde Sky Person setting foot in a grounder camp without protection of her own? Clarke is either stupid or brave. Maybe she’s both.

Clarke’s hair forms a curtain around her face. Lexa has the urge to push it behind Clarke’s ear, just so she could see the girl’s expression. Lexa wants to know what she’s thinking. She doesn’t know why but it matters to Lexa and she _hates_ it.

Lexa probably wouldn’t even be thinking this way if Clarke just tied her _damn hair back_.

Lexa dismisses herself; she stalks from the room and into the woods. She draws two knives and hurls them at a tree in the distance. Her arm aches but she doesn’t care for it. They hit their target, obviously; her aim is never off. She’s frustrated, nothing makes sense, _Clarke_ makes no sense. Why did she have to show up and ruin everything? Alliances are for the needy. She could take Mount Weather without the Sky People.

But.

She doesn’t _want_ to.

There’s an echo in her mind. An echo that sounds like _her._ Lexa doesn’t listen.

It’s only when she gets to the tree to retrieve the knives that she feels a presence behind her. Lexa listens to the footsteps, careful and slow. Deliberate. A greeting.

“ _Clarke_.” Lexa schools her features before she turns around. Clarke stands a respectable distance away. Lexa wonders if Clarke observes her just as Lexa watches Clarke. Clarke hesitates.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She answers quickly. “We’ve been in that room for hours.” Clarke nods, her hair slips into her eyesight. Lexa resists the urge to roll her eyes. Clarke takes a few steps forward.

Lexa doesn’t know what Clarke wants. There’s nothing they can do, they have to wait for Bellamy, for Raven to hear _something_ before giving them the go ahead. Lexa doesn’t mind waiting, but _this_? This is just tedious. She can’t offer Clarke anything.

“I needed to get out too. I’m sure Indra thinks I’m a bad influence.” Clarke chuckles lightly. Lexa doesn’t understand. “Whenever we’re together, something bad happens.” She clarifies.

“That’s not because of you, Clarke.” Lexa reassures the girl and holsters her knives. She begins wandering away from camp; Clarke falls into step beside her. “Bad outweighs the good here. That will never change. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

Clarke grabs at the hem of her jacket and dips her head. They walk in silence. Lexa doesn’t have a destination in mind; she’s content to just walk for now. She sees Clarke worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She looks like she wants to say something, Lexa notes that Clarke wears this expression a little too often around her.

“We’re not going to run into that… _thing_ again, are we?” Lexa hears the tone of Clarke’s voice. She turns to look at her, to reassure her, to tell her she’s _safe_. But Clarke’s head is still tipping downward and she can’t see her eyes, she can’t see anything but blonde.

“Clarke, stop.” Clarke braces herself, she looks up her eyes widening in fear. Lexa suspects her tone gave Clarke the wrong idea. She smiles softly. “Clarke, please sit.” Lexa gestures at a fallen tree.

“What, why?” Clarke looks around nervously. Lexa finds herself stepping closer to Clarke.

“When we speak, I wish to see your face.” Lexa touches the ends of Clarke’s hair tentatively. Clarke’s gaze goes from Lexa’s hand to her eyes. It takes her a second to understand. “Please.”

Lexa really doesn’t wait for an answer. She moves to stand behind the fallen tree trunk and waits for Clarke to sit before her. Lexa doesn’t know what she’s doing.

Well, she _does_ but she also knows that if any of her people saw this, there’d be whispers. A Sky Person managing to earn The Commander’s trust? The Commander’s _honor_? Such a thing is unheard of, in _any_ tribe. Lexa doesn’t have those kinds of people. She doesn’t do love, she doesn’t want love.

Caring about Clarke isn’t allowed. She won’t let herself. She can’t.

An echo of _her_ smile flashes through Lexa’s mind.

Clarke sits before Lexa. Lexa takes a shaky breath and runs her fingers through Clarke’s hair.

She knows she’s going to lose this battle.

Lexa removes a couple of bands from her own hair and passes them to Clarke to hold before she starts tangling her fingers in Clarke’s hair. She tries not to enjoy it.

Lexa tells Clarke of their traditions and Clarke seems willing to learn. She tells her that Octavia’s braids mark that of a warrior. Each braid has a different meaning.

“What about mine?”

Lexa’s fingers still for a quick second, Clarke ignores it. Lexa marvels at the way Clarke’s blonde seems to match that of the sunlight, bright and bold and warm. She takes her time, teasing the hair into perfect patterns.

“Loyal,” Lexa answers softly. “Daring. _Brave_.” Lexa sweeps a finger along Clarke’s hairline and twists the hair between her fingers. She feels Clarke shudder beneath her fingertips. Lexa pretends it doesn’t affect her.

“Oh.” Clarke says it quietly, like a breath or a whisper. Lexa binds the last of the hair together then takes a step back. Clarke looks up and smiles carefully. “Done?” Lexa nods, Clarke wears the braids well, although, Lexa thinks Clarke could wear anything and look particularly magnificent.

She stores the thought away.

“Thank you.” Clarke smiles so brightly that Lexa can’t help but return it. Clarke runs her fingers over her hair. “It always ends up getting in the way.”

“I’ve noticed.” Lexa freezes; she didn’t mean to say that. At least, not _out loud_. Clarke lifts her gaze to catch Lexa’s, her eyes narrow and Lexa swears Clarke sees straight through her. It’s funny, how all Lexa wanted was to be able to see Clarke’s face and now that she can, she just wants to turn away or hide.

And Lexa recognizes this feeling.

Clarke takes a step closer to Lexa; she’s only an arms length away. Lexa swallows sharply but refuses to break eye contact. It’s like a challenge and no, she won’t lose. She can’t. Clarke reaches up to Lexa’s face and pushes the hair out of her eyes. Lexa could scoff at the position they’re in. How did the roles reverse so quickly?

She feels small under Clarke’s gaze.

“Do you like bravery?” Lexa feels the words hit her skin. She makes the mistake of letting her eyes flicker downward to Clarke’s lips for barely half a second.

She knows Clarke saw.

“Yes.”

Clarke’s closer now but Lexa doesn’t seem to be able to find the fight to care. Clarke can come as close as she _wants_. Lexa knows her defenses are shattered, broken and bent and _gone._ She shouldn’t be doing this, she _shouldn’t,_ there’s an echo in her mind. It sounds like Costia, it sounds like her smile. It sounds like a goodbye.

Clarke pushes upwards just the slightest and all Lexa wants to do is close the gap.

Yes, Lexa knows this feeling.

_Weakness._

 

 

 


End file.
